And yet another story to be transferred to my Blogger account. Please enjoy.
Greetings Goofball-ers’ & Friends
Introduction
Nothing about Hot Flashes, Menopause, Periods, or Babies - That is not my cup of tea to talk about openly. The only thing that I am writing about is my last bike ride last week. And no, I am not going to talk about men things like... =)
Sunday, May 21, 2000 Santa Fe, New Mexico - Elevation 6,989
"I say whose house? Run's House. Say what? Whose house? Say
what? Run's House. Martin...."DOGMA
Note: Before reading further readers - No disrespect is intended to any religious parties. My apologies to anyone who is offended. Remember you do not have to read anything you do not want to. All views expressed are mine. Thank you. I write from the heart and sometimes a "little" over the lines is required to get my overall effect.
May 21, 2000
Santa Fe
The streets of Santa Fe in the early mornings were just as barren as the landscape surrounding the capital of New Mexico, except for the 1800+ bicyclist on hand for The Santa Fe Century on
Sunday, May 21, 2000.
Mentally, I was ready for the first bike tour of the new year, but physically I was not. I only had about four and a half hours of sleep, I did not carbo load the night before and I did not have any breakfast. Yet, I felt no doubt of my ability not to do good. Anyway...
I said good-bye to my Mom and said see you in about eight hours and then my Dad took a few pictures of me at the starting line. This was the first time in three years since I have been biking that my parents actually came to see me compete. I was happy they came.
As usual everybody loved my helmet. I had taken off Watto and I added some stickers of a woman who is just legal and has a nice, and I mean like phat, midriff. Oh baby. =) Two stickers on each side of the helmet, then I have Scooby-Doo on the front and Ernie on the back of the helmet.
Start / Finish Line
7:15 - I left the starting line and headed south of Santa Fe on route 14. We riders got lucky - The fires in Los Alamas were 90% contained and the smoke was not blowing on our bike route. I headed down the Turquoise Trail, or also known as route 14, toward the Sandia Mountains. I had my windbreaker on for the first eight miles, since the morning was cold, but not as cold as the eight miles Iride in July outside Copper Mountain (You faithful readers should know what I am referring) The sky was void of clouds and the sun was very bright, even with my new O Oakley sunglasses and the wind was blowing slightly. My pace was above normal, but consistent. Even with the lack of sleep I felt alive. With me knowing my parents were actually there - I think that helped me on a subconscious level.
I reached my first food stop.... whoa... I forgot a little detail. About seven miles into my ride I decided to try a sport food supplement called "GU" - flavored orange burst. I ripped open the "GU" and squeezed a bunch into my mouth. Bleech!, as Snoopy would say. I briefly tasted and then basically swallowed the whole goop in one swallow. woooo weeee! I think I can say it was like trying to eat peanut butter - only orange flavored. Well, I managed to wash the residue down with my water and stored the rest of the "GU" in my bike bag. ::grin:: As ZZ top would say - I would not touch that with a ten foot pole... so I reached the first food stop at Madrid (24 Miles) and I immediately made a b-line to the food table. I would like to say that I ate the orange slices, but I gobbled those orange slices. Gobbled those oranges like I would gobble a certain bare midriff - LOL. Damn, I am funny! =) weeee. ok ok ok. I ignored the water, since I had three water bottles and I only used about half getting to the first food stop. I stayed for about five minutes, then replaced my batteries in my Walkman and started my hill climb into part of the Sandia Mountains. I began my first climb and nothing terribly tough for me. I appropriately had my Mt. Evans music mix tape playing and pedaled up thar hill. I reached the top, then rode on a slightly level incline keeping a nice pace. I passed Golden, which is a played-out mining town.
I reached my second food stop (37 Miles) and had a few more orange slices, which I did eat normally. =) I also filled up my depleted water bottle. I then looked to the East and saw Heart Break Hill. I do not know how she got her name, but I saw my hopes of completing the hill on my bike diminishing away. There was only one other hill I saw that was just as menacing and that was last year on Tour Diablo coming out of the Devil's Gulch. I stopped my awe struck staring and got on my bike and eased my gears into the second easiest gear ratio and started the climb. ::head bowed in shame:: I failed. I made the climb of about third to half up the hill, but needlessly to say - Heart Break Hill broke my heart. ::serious look:: I was honestly ashamed, but, but, but wait, I then saw how many other riders were walking their bike up. ::head up:: I definitely felt better, but knew, just knew I could of made that hill. When I, er... we, were walking our bikes, I saw maybe a total of three to five riders actually ride to the top on their bikes. Three to five out of the 20 to 30 of us walking. I hereby promise she will not break my heart next year. I will be the Heart Breaker next year. Count on that!
The next food stop was at Cedar Grove (47 Miles) A little, bitty town nestled against the foothills of the Sandia Mountains. I filled up my water again and noticed the sun was almost directly above me and hardly casting any shadows anywhere. I began to wonder how far the next food stop would be. The wind was blowing from the West, about 5 to 15 mph and the blowing sand was starting to become a nuisance.
Mile 49 - We riders finally got to turn East. That was a relief for me, since we had been steadily riding south and getting further away from Santa Fe. The route East was straight as an arrow. A couple of dips, but the road was level and flat.
The fourth food stop was at Stanley (61 miles) and the time was roughly 11:30 and I was beginning to tire. As I am writing this, I think the reason why I became tired was I saw Santa Fe (Actually the mountain Santa Fe is next to) so far in the distance and I knew I had many miles to go.
Normally, I have certain things to keep me motivated. Yet, I did not see "much" to qualify as a nice view. I saw only one "nice" view and I tried to keep up, but she was on a tandem and damn those things can move on the flats. So, on this particular Sunday I had only my pride to motivate me and not to mention failing in front of my parents.
After leaving the food stop at Stanley there is an eight mile stretch with a slight incline uphill. I found my MO and pedaled into a very nice pace. Usually on my rides I draft a rider on a climb, however I was the one being drafted =) Me? Being drafted? My ego went up that short ladder which I have been steadily climbing for the past few years. I felt very good about myself - since I was the one being drafted for the very first time. Being drafted is not like having sex for the first time, but ranks up on the top 10 for me ;-) Anyway, I did not try to lose my drafter, but made sure he earned the right to draft me. ::thoughtful look:: Me? I am going to relish that memory until the next time. Oh yeah.
The fifth food stop was at Galisteo (79 Miles) and was located at the bottom of a hill and the rest of the course route goes back up to Santa Fe. I took a ten minute rest break. Part of my ass was going numb, my eyes were watering from the wind and the sand, and I was dehydrated. Guess what. I ran out of water about ten miles prior to the food stop. Yes, I had three water bottles, but to tell you how confident I was I only had two water bottles filled. I never did check my water bottles at the beginning of my ride in the morning. Yes, very ignorant of me. All this time I only had two water bottles filled and I nearly sealed my fate between Stanley and Galisteo. I kneaded my thighs, since I was starting to cramp and headed for Santa Fe. Many riders were calling it quits. I saw many SAG wagons, actually more than the usual SAG wagons required for a tour, hauling riders who could not finish riding. Whether due to fatigue or getting sick, or the extreme temperature, I do not know. I hope I never, ever, ride in a SAG wagon myself. I joke about SAG wagons, but when I actually see a SAG wagon in operation I behold a face everytime expressing defeat. Defeat and sadness - a frown, sunglasses on hiding their emotion, and a look of despair. Maybe not despair, but I do not know how to describe what I see. A far off look and then a look/glance at me and my heart goes out to them. I look only once and then I do not look back at the SAG riders
I finally found a rider to follow. Rider #325. Actually rider #324 & #325. We three riders played cat and mouse until the finish line, but let us not get ahead of ourselves. She (#324) was a strong rider - he (#325) was struggling. I took advantage and made my move to distance myself between them and me around Mile 90.
The last food stop - Eldorado (92 Miles) - I did not even stop at the food stop. I made a stop at the Gas station and bought myself a can of Coca-Cola. Oh yeah. A caffeine fix is what I was craving. A $ 1.05, but damn well worth the moolah (money). To exactly express my feelings - That coke was fucking excellent! I gulped down that coke like a Coca-Cola commercial and even said "Ahhhhhhhh" =) Sorry about the language, but that is exactly how I felt.
I took the off ramp onto I-25 at mile 92.8 and roughly at 95 miles I caught my drafter from earlier this afternoon. Oh yeah. Revenge is a dish best served cold and my stomach was cold from that coke. I mentally said good bye to his ass. Rider 324 & 325 passed me.
Mile 99 - With five miles to go, I rode like the wind blows, into the wind. Mile 103 I just about caught up to the riders 324 & 325 and a few more riders. I had about a half mile left to the finish line and I started The Sprint. Ooh Bingo! The Sprint was uphill and I passed riders 324 & 325 and five other riders to the finish. Nobody could touch me, too late for them to retaliate with a counter-sprint.
Start / Finish Line
Eight hours and 20 minutes - 104 miles later and I was finally finished. A medium difficult century ride and I was done. My Mom and Dad were there and once again my Dad took pictures of me. Mom was Mom and she wanted to buy a T-shirt for me, but I said no. I did buy myself a Jacket. No bike jersey was available, so I had to buy the jacket. I have written about my bike rides in the past couple of years and said how great I felt. Yet, this time was even better since my parents actually witness me, their son, do something no other son would probably do. What I did on May 21, 2000 was made them proud of me and gave them something to talk about. =)
As a victory thing, I treated them to dinner at the LoneStar Steak house in Albuquerque, NM. Our dinners were cooked to perfection, the appetizer was delicious and the salad was crisp. And that's all I have to say about that.
Sorry for the length of the story, but I am sure that you were well entertained. Stay tuned for my other bike tour stories throughout this summer. And you know what -- Whose house? My house! =) ::tongue sticking out::
Author's Note
December 10, 2003 - This bike tour was a warm up for me and this was going to determine what sort of year I was going to have bike riding. I trained myself again this year and this time I knew how to train correctly and safely. Yes, all self taught. I watched my meals and weight carefully. I took advantage of the sunlight and rode with such vigor during the late winter and spring of 2000, I developed awesome legs, calves, thighs and an awesome tan. . I had definition in those legs of mine! Okay. I had my new Oakleys which I bought for this year. I was a cool looking guy on a bike. Cropped hair, stylin sunglasses, spectacular legs, a goal and my parents with me for the first time in three years to see what I actually do. My brother was suppose to ride in the bike tour with me, but did not. This ride was good for me. Lots of sun, lots of wind, and lots of riders. I think there was over 2500 hundred riders. This was my first official 100 miles in a tour - Or what I like to say my first official Century Ride. Not much else to say, except I am looking for the return to Heart Break Ridge. The baddest "Bitch" of a hill climb I have ever rode on and she beat me. She made me get off my bike and walk my bike to the top. I can guarantee I will beat "the Bitch" next year. As of Dec 2003, I still not have seen a hill that even comes close to Heart Break Hill, except a few of the sections of road near the top of Mount Evans in Colorado.
w-i-t-h-u-t-m-o-s-t-s-i-n-c-e-r-i-t-y
Daryl
aka CalSeti
Daryl Charley
The Fallen Athlete
